


The Very Model of a Modern Metrosexual

by freedomfry



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: also eyeliner, complete fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 01:33:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2754623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomfry/pseuds/freedomfry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after <i>Rings</i> wrapped when Dom was crashed out at Elijah's place in LA. For cincodemaygirl, who gave me the plotbunny during ljslumberparty. Happy birthday, Cinco! Many thanks to my wonderful beta, casapazzo, for helping this to make sense. Well, some kind of sense.</p><p>Part of my continuing quest to move stuff off of LJ and onto A03! I'm now over at tumblr at <a href="fireballoffry.tumblr.com">fireballoffry</a> and have mostly moved from Lotrips straight into the special Evanstan hell, with bonus pining for fictional WWII vets...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Very Model of a Modern Metrosexual

Dom looked at his stubby excuse for an eyeliner pencil in dismay. Nicked from the makeup tray during Rings, he had been using it for premieres, club nights and days when he had been feeling a bit bored for almost two years. Hannah’s screeching about nasty eye-borne bacteria had not made an impression on him, and neither had Orlando’s Eddie Izzard jokes, Astin’s carefully composed expressions, or Billy’s open mockery.

Wearing eyeliner was fun. It drove the female fans wild with lust, he explained to Elijah, when you hadn’t been born with gigantic Powerpuff Girl blue eyes. Elijah told Dom to stop watching so much Cartoon Network and tried to throw the tiny pencil away. Dom retaliated by writing “wanker” on Lij’s forehead with a Sharpie when he was sleeping.

But there was no getting around it. This pencil—a nub, really, at this point—was an ex-piece of makeup. Dom smirked. No pining for the fjords for this one. Time to get another.

Nicking one from Hannah was impossible. She had a right cross that left some serious bruises and had taken to watching her makeup case obsessively. Since Dom was between projects—even in his head it was uncomfortable to say “unemployed”—there was no chance of snagging one from a makeup tray.

And buying one using the power of online anonymity was completely out of the question. He had looked up the company that made the pencil he had been using, MAC, and had been flabbergasted to find out it would cost him $18 for another one.

He didn’t fancy looking for a new pencil in a makeup store—he could just imagine the tabloid headlines. Plus, all the powder and perfumes in the aisles made him sneeze. On the other hand, he thought as he stretched out on the couch, weren’t there usually pretty girls walking around in white smocks to help you? Consultants or whatnot. How hard could it be?

He thought about it some more. Maybe he needed some female backup. Hannah had been pretty amused by the whole Sharpie incident with Elijah, taking photos and threatening to sell them on eBay. Also, she was pretty much the only girl he knew in LA who wasn’t Liv or a one-night stand. Dom nodded to himself, then hopped off the sofa, grabbed the phone and called her.

When she answered, he had no idea what to say. He fumbled for a bit, then blurted, “Um, so say some hypothetical someone—not saying it’s me, mind—wanted to buy an eyeliner. How would he—she! She, I mean—go about doing it?”

Dom heard her snort. “You’d go to Walgreen’s like everyone else, loser,” Hannah said. “Unless you want to head to the mall and go to a specialty shop.”

“And spend $20 on a fucking pencil? I don’t think so,” Dom said.

“Isn’t it ridiculous?” she replied. She paused. “I can’t believe I’m talking about makeup with my brother’s friend. I’m getting off the phone now.”

“Wait, wait!” Dom said. “Come with me.”

He could practically hear her eyes rolling over the phone. “Fine, Monaghan. Buy me lunch and I’ll go with you to the drugstore.” Hannah’s voice grew stern. “But you’re buying the damn eyeliner, Dom, not me,” she said, and hung up.

***

“God, haven’t you been in a drugstore before?” Hannah said, looking at Dom’s nervous expression.

“Course I have,” he said. “But it was to buy manly things, like condoms and dirty mags. Not for makeup. I never go down these aisles,” he said, 

“Afraid you’ll catch something?” Hannah asked.

“Well, it _is_ awfully pink,” he replied, his eyes shifting frantically. He sidled over to a makeup display, grabbed the first thing he saw and turned around.

“I’ve got it, can we get out of this aisle now? Go somewhere safe, like paper plates or school supplies?”

“No,” Hannah said. “You’ve picked something purple, pinhead. Also, it’s lip gloss.” She smirked. “And I can’t let you walk out of here with something made by fucking Bonne Bell. That’s for thirteen-year-old teenyboppers.” She looked at him sideways. “The kind who think you look hot in eyeliner.”

Dom put the lip gloss back and looked around. “Everyone thinks I look hot in eyeliner,” he said absently. “Jesus, there are thousands of sticks and tubes and pots of shit down here.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Hannah groaned in exasperation, then grabbed Dom by the shirtsleeve and dragged him down the aisle and past a terrifying display of eyelash curlers, hot wax treatments, tweezers and other feminine instruments of torture. He dug in his heels, stopping them both at a wide rack of promising-looking pencils.

“What about these?” he said. “These aren’t lip gloss? Nail something? Another mysterious girly thing I don’t need?”

Hannah shook her head, biting her lower lip to keep from grinning.

He picked one up and spun it in his hands. “I like the name. Wet ‘n’ Wild. Sexy, yeah?” He looked at the price tag. “And not twenty bucks. Sold. Let’s get out of here.”

They got halfway to the checkout counter before Dom began shuffling his feet and looking twitchy. He gave Hannah a look of wide-eyed terror. She looked back at him, unmoved.

“Dominic Monaghan, Elijah’s my brother,” she said. “Big sad eyes don’t work on me.” 

“Shhh, not so loud,” he hissed, looking around frantically.

“Whatever,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “Be a man. Go buy your damn eyeliner.”

“In a minute,” he said, darting down the junk food aisle.

He emerged--or at least a giant pile of Doritos bags wearing Dom’s jeans emerged--five minutes later.

“Er,” the Doritos pile said.

“This is totally how you bought your first _Playboy_ , isn’t it?” Hannah asked.

“Maybe,” the Doritos said, lurching around blindly and hoping there wasn’t a towering display of something fragile nearby. Hannah snickered, then grabbed Dom by the elbow and steered him towards the checkout.

The girl behind the counter looked at the pile of food with alarm. But as the pile spilled across her register, her dismay melted away and was replaced by a blushing smile. Dom gave her a cheeky grin. Hannah resisted rolling her eyes.

“Having a party?” the checkout girl asked. “Or just really hungry?”

“Bit peckish, yeah, Laura,” Dom said, glancing at her name tag.

“Will the twelve bags of chips be all for you today, then?” she asked.

“Oh, and this,” he said, pushing the eyeliner across the counter.

“For your girlfriend?” Laura asked, putting the eyeliner into a plastic bag.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Dom said, smiling slowly at Laura.

“And that’s not my eyeliner,” Hannah said, raising an eyebrow.

Dom flushed a becoming shade of fuchsia.

Laura bit her lower lip and then smiled. “Guys who wear eyeliner are hot.”


End file.
